


Drowning not waving

by PoisonJack



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Comfort, Decent guy Jack, General au, I guess if I continue this on I'll add tags as I go :3, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rhys is touchy about his cybernetics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-27 22:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6303049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/pseuds/PoisonJack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys has a panic attack on a date at a club, Jack gets him out of there and helps him calm his shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning not waving

**Author's Note:**

> Had fun writing this on tumblr, want it here too. I also cannot decide if I'll add more or not, so maybe keep an eye out.

Rhys _had_ been having a fun time at the club with his blind date. He'd met the man in the throng of dancing bodies. Some light flirting and suggestion to get drinks and dance themselves had been made.

Then he'd taken off his jacket, and the person had had a problem with his cybernetic arm.

 _And_ Rhys had accidentally spilled his drink on them. He was alone when the man had called Rhys less than human, fuming away to the bathroom to clean up as he'd tried to apologize.

So now he was standing at the edge of the packed club, trying to calm his racing heart, embarrassed and alone. His face was red with shame and hot with humiliation, boxed in on the opposite side of the club, and he just wanted out. Just wanted to escape. Could feel a rising tide of emotion rolling up and through him but terrified he couldn't make it through the crowd fast enough without losing it or passing out. 

He couldn't try to compose himself in the bathroom. His ' _date_ ' was in there. And he wouldn't be able to make it across the dance floor in time, he was certain if the rising sense of dread was anything to go by.

He stared at the drink in his hand, breath coming quicker, heart thundering in his chest. No no no why here why now and why when the exit seemed a million miles away? He decided to try to make a break for it as it was becoming apparent, adrenaline coursing through him, that a storm was brewing. Knowing that his window of able escape was fast closing only made his heart pound that much harder. 

He got caught in the middle of the dance floor as terror struck through him, limbs suddenly going weak as his heart tried to escape his chest. There was a tightness there and everything was suddenly too loud and too bright and he felt like he was drowning but no one even noticed he was in distress.

A hand grabbed his and pulled, and he went with the motion without conscious thought. Movement was good. Movement towards the exit. Movement away from the loud and pulsating center of the club. The hand brought him outside just as his legs gave up, and thinking he was going to pass out, he quickly crouched down so he wouldn't eat pavement. 

He shut his eyes, willed the tears from terror away, tried to count, tried to breath through the constriction in his chest as thoughts and feelings and terror and adrenaline rushed through him. He just needed to breathe, to count, to make his lungs fill up and out and get oxygen through his system.

_It wasn't working why wasn't it working it should be working--_

A big palm was against his chest, another taking one of his hands and placing it flat on the chest of whoever had grabbed him.

"Breathe with me, okay?" The voice told him as he shook uncontrollably, terror and adrenaline warring and griping him by the throat. "Breathe in......hold it...hold it...breathe out nice and long....Okay again. Breathe in with me.....hold it.... Not yet, hold it.....breathe out real easy...."

The stranger's voice guided him through not passing out under his own hyperventilation, panic tightening everything and eyes shut against the rest of the world. His hands were shaking, his whole body trembling, heart thundering, and it felt like he'd never get enough air and it would never end. The sudden fear plaguing him wouldn't leave; there was no threat to escape but it didn't matter how much he told himself that.He couldn't calm himself down.

But he was able to concentrate on that voice, focus on it as he felt the chest moving beneath his hand, trying to match his own to it as his breath hitched and threatened to leave him. It was a long time they were at that, before Rhys felt severely lightheaded but slightly less like he was going to die any second. The man who was helping him center on that breathing was crouched with him, trying to steady him. His voice had a somewhat relieved smile in it.

"You looked like you were about to keel over there, pumpkin."

Rhys just nodded, face screwing up further as he tried to not think about it; the terror, the helplessness, the unbridled fear and inability to escape and--

"Sorry sorry, breathe. Won't talk about it, just breathe....okay? In.... And out."

Rhys felt a modicum better after several more moments with the stranger; enough to open his eyes to try to thank the person for keeping him from passing out. 

That was short-lived. He _did_ end up passing out, but it was less tipped over from the attack than it was from the identity of the person who'd rescued him.

So Rhys had been saved by none other than Handsome Jack. Head of Hyperion, disgustingly rich and just as smart, face to masked face.

Even if he'd been at one-hundred percent, Rhys would have passed out from sheer shock.

**Author's Note:**

> Yoooo. Now I haven't decided but I _think_ I will continue with this. I've really been on the fence about it. I'm going to mark it as complete but I may revisit it for follow up, just FYI :)
> 
> Come say hey at [my tumblr](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com). I do things and stuff.


End file.
